


Addictive

by rhodrymavelyne



Series: More Than a Jinrou [15]
Category: Shiki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:20:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24078136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhodrymavelyne/pseuds/rhodrymavelyne
Summary: Struggling to overcome his former professor, Yuuki Natsuno finds hope and strength in the humans around him. In the meanwhile That Man, a man from Sunako's past claims there's hope for all the shiki...in Natsuno.
Relationships: Kirishiki Sunako & Muroi Seishin, Kirishiki Sunako/That Man, Muroi Seishin/Ozaki Toshio, Muroi Seishin/That Man, Mutou Tooru/Yuuki Natsuno, Ozaki Toshio/Yuuki Natsuno, Tanaka Akira/Original Male Character(s), Tatsumi/Yuuki Natsuno, Yuuki Natsuno/Original Male Character(s), Yuuki Natsuno/That Man
Series: More Than a Jinrou [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/473263
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Addictive

**Author's Note:**

> This is Part 15 in More Than a Jinrou, my many-part sequel to After the Explosion. No, That Man is not an original character. He appeared in Sunako's memories in the Shiki anime when she told her story to Tohru. Yes, he's the same character who appeared in my story to menace Yuuki-san in Too Soon, Too Late. No, I don't own Shiki. I'm just borrowing it, writing a story with its characters that's taking on a life of its own...

It should have been easy to take it, to rip that necklace out of Sensei’s hands. Another wave of pain rippled through his body, making it hard for Natsuno to think, let alone move. 

Was this all he was? The thought thrummed through the ripping, gnawing sensation, a melody drumming in time to it. A helpless boy doubled over, dying in a bed, unable to save those he cared for? One more body sinking into a pool of blood, consumed by a hunger he couldn’t resist? 

No. An angry resolution kindled in his stomach, the same rage he’d felt, flickering in and out of consciouness, breathing his last breath, still unable to catch that stupid Sotoba bus. No. I will get out. I will not bow to this!

Natsuno gritted his teeth and raised his head. 

“Such a strong will you have.” That mocking voice was laced with tender approval, an approval his own father never showed. A part of Natsuno still craved that approval, even though he knew it was useless. “You’re more than a shiki, more than a jinrou, aren’t you, Natsuno-kun?”

“How would you know?” A distraction. He needed a distraction, needed to get that medallion away from Shinma-sensei. Needed to get Akira out of here. Talk might do it, if he could force the words out. “How you know about the shiki and the jinrou?”

“I’m a teacher, Natsuno-kun. It’s my job, no, my calling, to know things. To quicken and shape impressionable minds, releasing all my knowledge into them.” Shinma-sensei glanced at Akira for a moment before his hungry gaze returned to Natsuno. “To coax the same passion out of you, fertilizing all of humanity with your ripening knowledge.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “It’s a humanity you were never part of, so I suppose it was a useless exercise.”

“To think I once found you charming.” Natsuno tried to smile through his grimace. “Now you’re just creepy.”

“Nii-chan.” A warm hand touched his arm, gripped it. “I’m so sorry.” Tears choked Akira’s voice. “I thought this guy cared for you. I thought he wanted to find you as badly as I did.” 

“Oh, but I do care for him, Akira-kun.” Shinma-sensei touched his medallion, fondled with the same greedy intimacy he’d once fondled Natsuno. Bile rose in his throat. “Natsuno-kun is our hope. Not only the hope for humanity, but for the shiki, too.”

****

“What?” Never had Sunako looked more fragile, more like the little girl she appeared to be. Not even when Ookawa-san held her pinned against a church wall had she seemed so lost. 

Seishin longed to take her hand, to touch her hair, offer any comfort he could. Only he didn’t dare. They didn’t dare show any weakness. Not in front of this man. 

To the casual eye, he seemed nothing more than a flamboyant foreigner with full, wild green hair, dressed in an old-fashioned European frock coat. Smiling with a sensuous mouth, nostrils flaring in a narrow nose, and large expressive eyes regarding both Sunako and himself with intense interest. In fact, he reminded Seishin of Yuuki-san, Natsuno’s father with that abundance of hair many a woman would have envied. Only Yuuki-san usually tried to pin his back, to restrain his curls with ineffective clips and ties. This man’s waves bounced wild and free over his shoulders, a mass of moonlit green moss ready to entangle the unworthy comb or finger. His bright green eyes were ringed with red, though, a red as bright as the crimson which appeared in Sunako’s or his own. Darkness gathered around this man, a darkness evident to Seishin in a whispering chorus of weeping souls. Wispy, weak shadows, they clung to the man’s arms, hung onto his legs. Could the man hear them? Or did he simply chose to ignore their cries? The latter was entirely possible. This was a man who left death and tears in his wake. This was not a man to be trusted. 

“Are you in any position to offer Sunako anything?” Seishin kept his voice steady, courteous. “Have you ever offered her anything more than life as a corpse?”

“No. Not until now.” The man took one step forward and pressed a hand to his breast. His fingers were long, slender, and graceful, a lot like Natsuno’s. “I’ve felt the joy in a rush of crimson and the guilt while looking down on the empty vessel it came from. Once I drained it from a beautiful little girl, bursting with vitality, who was just beginning.” He fixed his attention upon Sunako. “The result was to see her rise as an exquisite doll, an eternal poppet whose mind sharpened with a woman’s wit without marring her perfect exterior.”

“The result was she never grew up. She never aged while those she loved withered and died one by one before she had a chance to find them. Anyone else she found, she couldn’t give eternity to, only death. Hoping against hope they might rise themselves, leaving her less alone. All the while knowing they’d be forsaken by God just as she was!” Rage transformed and sharpened Sunako’s tiny features. “If only I could drain your life, giving you the death you’ve given me, that you’ve forced me to give to so many!”

“You’ve a right to be angry, my dear.” The man didn’t move or stir, not showing any anger himself or remorse. He simply gazed at Sunako as if she were a rare flower in full bloom and he was admiring every petal. “Just as I have to right my wrong.”

“You have a right?” Seishin found his own voice trembling with anger, all the unspoken things which hadn’t been given voice with Toshio. “Do you have any idea how many lives you ruined? The pain you gave Sunako consumed an entire village!” Sotoba, the faces of everyone in Sotoba rose to haunt him once more. Nao-san. Megumi-chan. The weeping boy in the forest. His parents. Mitsuo. Tsurumu. All of them falling to shiki bloodlust, to brutal human retaliation, to fire. Their lost souls waited in the darkness surrounding this man, whispering, pleading. If he listened to them, he’d go mad. How he hated that village. How he mourned it. “What could you possibly do to right anything?!”

“By offering healing and hope to the survivors of Sotoba.” The man turned his attention to Seishin, a glimmer of sympathy flickering in his red eyes. “Do you think I don’t regret what happened to your village? I had kin there, who suffered madness and death. Yet from the ashes of all you once knew comes hope, which may yet save us all.”

“What hope do you offer?” Sunako raised a small hand to her eyes, hiding whatever expression lurked within them. “What hope can we look for from the ashes?”

“Yuuki Natsuno-kun.” A tiny smile crept on the edges of the man’s mouth. “Haven’t you guessed? He’s our hope. The hope of all shiki and the humans they prey upon.”  
*****

Sensei needed to let go of the medallion for a moment. Natsuno thought a distraction would do it. His words, however, weren’t causing it. 

Someone else did. “Oi, sensei!” That abrasive, sarcastic voice was the most beautiful thing Natsuno had ever heard. “Does your wife know you play around in clubs with underage boys?”

A wrinkle prickled the middle of Shinma-sensei’s forehead, a self-conscious tell. He shifted his attention in the direction of that voice, loosening his grip upon the medallion. 

This was what Natsuno had been waiting for. He leapt at the man who’d tormented him, who would have tormented Akira, shoving the younger boy aside. He grabbed at the silver disc, yanking the chain it was. Something snapped. Cold metal filled with his hands. Someone dragged Shinma away, leaving Natsuno to fall to his knees. Visions rushed into his mind, attacking it from every angle. 

No. Once more he doubled over, overwhelmed. Too much, too many images. This was nothing like the stream of memories he’d shared with Tatsumi while drinking his blood. Visions hit him, overlapping each other, mingling in a mad, popping collage. His father’s angry, fearful face. “What happened to you?” Tohru-chan, smiling, pointing a teasing finger at him. “Natsuno!” Toshio, clinging to him, all warmth and fierce human need. “Natsuno, look at me!” Tatsumi, wet and hard, pressing against him in the shower. “You don’t have to hold back with me.” His mother, smiling, ever so helpful even when she had no idea what was happening. “This arrived for you in the mail.” Shimizu all full pink hair dressed in black, a creature out of nightmare, looming over Tohru-chan. “I don’t like him because he gets along with you better than me.” Cold arms slipping around his waist, sharp teeth sinking into his neck. “Natsuno!” Hungry love and desperate tears glittering in the eyes that gazed at him, seeing him, needing him. Too addictive by half, that need. This was why he kept everyone at a distance, to stop their need from devouring him, bite by greedy bite. To stop himself from letting them. 

“Give me a break,” he muttered, knowing how useless the words were, clutching the medallion. 

My child, I will do so much more than that if you’ll let me. The voice vibrated through his fingers, not speaking, yet Natsuno could hear it. He sounded a little like his father, a little like Toshio, and a little like Seishin-sensei, yet it was none of them. Comforting, reassuring, yet assured. Offering strength and support when every inch of Natsuno was ready to collapse. Accept my help and I will take care of you. Always. 

“Just like that,” he whispered. Hands touched him, arms enfolded him, warm lips traced a path up his cheek. Human lips. 

“Natsuno, I’m right here.” It was Toshio, tired, overworked, yet relentless Toshio, never abandoning his oath to help and heal, when when it drove him to kick things or make love to monsters. “You can let go of the medallion now.”

“It had power over shiki or maybe jinrou.” He opened his hand. Someone took the device. It left a stinging kiss upon his hand. “Take it. Take Akira out of here. Leave me.” 

“Never.” Those lips pressed to his brow. Toshio was holding him, kissing his face. Ah, how he longed to kiss back, but there was something. Some reason that didn’t matter to him, but it might mean all the world to Toshio.

“We’re in public.” Ah, yes that was it. People were staring, nudging, whispering. 

“I don’t care.” Toshio tightened his arms around him. “I’ve only just found you. I’m never letting you go.”

“Oi, don’t be so greedy, Ozaki-sensei.” It was Akira interrupting. He sounded reproachful, but there was no condemnation, no disgust in his voice. “I want to hold him, too.”

Toshio let out a faint chuckle, easing his grip without releasing Natsuno. He scooted over, giving Akira room to squeeze in and hug Natsuno as well.  


Natsuno hugged back, tears welling in his eyes. Questions waited in the back of his mind, questions which would worry him in a moment. They could wait. For now he let himself be enfolded in human warmth. 

It was so addictive. No wonder Tatsumi and so many shiki sank their fangs into it and drank it down. Did it have to be that way? Tohru-chan had been certain of this, but why couldn’t the warmth be willingly shared? Humans did it all the time. Consumed by the cold, the shiki forgot how to. Desperate, they drained the life from those warmer than themselves, those with warmth to offer them. 

There had be a way. A way to share, not steal. It tingled within the willing limbs of Toshio and Akira, an answer to this riddle, if he could only figure it out. Figure it out and share it with Tatsumi, Seishin-sensei, Sunako-san, and all the others lost in the cold. 

Natsuno breathed in the scent of his human friends and hugged back, willing what warmth, affection, and tenderness he had to flow back into them, to give as well as to take. 

Perhaps that was the key. Being willing to share. He just had convince Tatsumi and the others to try. 

Tatsumi. The thought of his former enemy turned lover stirred his mind, bringing the first of his questions to disturb the peace of the moment. 

Where was Tatsumi?


End file.
